Eugene Field

The Bottle-Tree

A Bottle-Tree bloometh in Winkyway land—

Heigh-ho for a bottle, I say!

A snug little berth in that ship I demand

That rocketh the Bottle-Tree babies away

Where the Bottle Tree bloometh by night and by day

And reacheth its fruit to each wee, dimpled hand;

You take of that fruit as much as you list,

For colic's a nuisance that doesn't exist!

So cuddle me close, and cuddle me fast,

And cuddle me snug in my cradle away,

For I hunger and thirst for that precious repast—

Heigh-ho for a bottle, I say!


The Bottle-Tree bloometh by night and by day!

Heigh-ho for Winkyway land!

And Bottle-Tree fruit (as I've heard people say)

Makes bellies of Bottle-Tree babies expand—

And that is a trick I would fain understand!

Heigh-ho for a bottle to-day!

And heigh-ho for a bottle to-night!—

A bottle of milk that is creamy and white!

So cuddle me close, and cuddle me fast,

And cuddle me snug in my cradle away,

For I hunger and thirst for that precious repast—

Heigh-ho for a bottle, I say!